


I've been careless with a delicate man

by Merideath



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Crack, Embarrassment, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Secretly a Virgin, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merideath/pseuds/Merideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she first met the Avengers a few months ago, everything went fine until Thor introduced her to Captain America and she made a colossal tit of herself, babbling about how he was her hero and she used to sleep with a Captain America doll and a Bucky bear when she was a kid. How embarrassing was that? And Captain America? He just smiled a vaguely pained smile, made an excuse and walked away. And then it only got better—or tragically worse—the next day. </p><p> </p><p>Darcy and Steve suffer mutual mortification everytime they meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story would not be if it weren't for all the help of [katertots](http://archiveofourown.org/users/katertots) my wonderful beta, who held my hand and let me bounce ideas back and forth with her. Also major props go to [twistedingenue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedingenue) who nudged me to fill in a bit more awkwardness, and let me share my special breed of crack plot bunnies with her. I also want to thank everyone that has left comments and kudos on my little stories, I treasure each and every single one.

I’ve been careless with a delicate man. – title from Criminal by Fiona Apple

“Um, hi, can I speak to Agent Coulson please,” Darcy asked as she nervously bit her lip and eyed the unconscious body in her miniscule studio apartment in a forgettable town in Northern California.

“Hello Miss Lewis. How may I help you?”

“Thank god. There’s an unconscious dude in my apartment that I think may be in your particular line of weird. Dude’s about 6 feet tall, sandy hair, brown eyes, he’s got a weird octopus tattoo on his forearm and more guns than the last Bruce Willis movie marathon.”

“Unconscious?”

“Yup, he tried to grab me when I walked in. I had my taser out from walking home in the dark. I’m not stupid. Oh and then I hit him in the head with my waffle iron,” Darcy winced as she rubbed at the bruise rapidly forming on her jaw.

“A waffle iron, Miss Lewis?”

“Hey don’t judge me! Barton showed me that video of you with a flour bag! And dude is big!”

“Touché, Miss Lewis. Can you send me a picture of the tattoo?”

“Uh, okay, hold on.” Darcy scuttled over to the sandy haired man again, brandishing her little cast iron waffle pan high in the air as she toed his arm with her boot till the tattoo was visible. She snapped the picture and scuttled back into the kitchenette. “Sending it now.”

“Miss Lewis, listen very carefully I need you to open his mouth and check his teeth. One of them will be false and have a hidden cyanide capsule in it.”

“You want me to what? Ew! That’s gross. Also isn’t that like, Cold War Era Spy-jinks?”

“Miss Lewis, please.”

“Fine fine fine.” Darcy knelt down beside the unconscious man opened his mouth and wiggled his teeth; she had nearly give up when one of the teeth moved. “Ew! Oh, gross.” She pulled the tooth out revealing a tiny capsule she picked up and dropped in the sink washing her hands over and over again. “Okay, Son of Coul, I got the capsule out what now?”

“I’m sending someone to collect you now, Miss Lewis.”

The line cut off before Darcy could say anything more, “Fucking marvellous,” she muttered to herself as she edged around the guy drooling on her ugly brown carpet. The apartment looked like it hadn’t been disturbed until she spied her laptop crushed on the floor. “You asshat,” she muttered and weighed the waffle iron in her hand before she kicked the goon in the head. Darcy twisted her hair up in a messy bun while pacing back and forth across the room. She dug out her backup drive from under a pile of ugly sweaters and threw a few items of clothing into the cavernous maw of her favourite satchel; always be prepared. Just as she was wondering if she should grab a towel there was a curt knock on the door.

“Hey Lewis, open up! It’s Agent Barton.”

“Final-fucking-ly,” Darcy snarked as she hopped over the goon”s legs. She scrambled to unlock the door with the waffle iron still firmly in hand. She sagged in relief as Barton pressed into the room, eyes scanning over every detail, before he bent over the unconscious body, slipping a pair of metal cuffs around the goon’s wrists and checking for a pulse. He turned smirking at her, one eyebrow quirking up as he spied the waffle iron.

“Gonna make us some waffles, Lewis?”

“Welcome to my humble abode, Agent Barton,” Darcy tried for a cheery tone but her voice fell somewhat flat as a hand stopped her from closing the door. “Oh, er, hello Captain Rogers,” she choked out, and pressed herself back against the wall.

“Miss Lewis, can you tell us what happened?” Steve asked with a curt nod as he stepped into the room. He was dressed in dark washed denim, a white Henley shirt and a navy blazer, not is his Cap gear or the granddad clothes he wore when she first met him. Oh god, please don’t tell me he was on a date, and now I’ve ruined that, too.

“Um, I just walked in. I had my taser in my hand and the keys in the other. The door was open slightly. I always lock the door; it’s a really fucking crappy neighbourhood, but it’s all I can afford right now. I pushed the door open and Big Bad over there grabbed my arm and hit me. I tased him, and when he was still shaking on the floor I got the waffle iron and hit him in the head. That’s when I saw the weird tattoo on his arm, and with all the guns under his jacket...I called Agent Coulson. And Coulson had me open that dude big ugly mouth and root around for a false tooth. Who even does that? Have fake teeth with fucking cyanide capsules in them. And really why is he here? I don’t know anything more than the rest of the world after you fought the aliens all spangled up,” Darcy winced. Really, she should not be allowed to talk to Captain America at all.

When she first met the Avengers a few months ago, everything went fine until Thor introduced her to Captain America and she made a colossal tit of herself, babbling about how he was her hero and she used to sleep with a Captain America doll and a Bucky bear when she was a kid. How fucking embarrassing was that? And Captain America? He just smiled a vaguely pained smile, made an excuse and walked away. And then it only got better—or tragically worse—the next day. While curled in the living room playing with Jane’s Starkpad her phone rang. 

She answered it with a sultry _“Tesla’s House of Scientific Erotica, Mistress Lewis at your service,”_ and when she looked up there was Captain America, jaw clenched and neck red. It had been Jane on the phone, saying she was running late, because science. For the remainder of her trip to New York things had been increasingly more and more awkward, Captain America was clearly as embarrassed by her as she was of herself. And the rest of the scientists, and superheroes? They just found Darcy and Captain America’s awkward dance of avoidance fucking hilarious.

She wasn’t even in New York. This was California; her life should not be filled with bad guys with guns. This was fucking chaos. “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling,” she murmured under her breath as she wrapped her arms around herself, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Excuse me?” Captain Rogers asked, as he looked away from the goon to raise his brows at her.

“Nothing, just a movie quote; don’t mind me, I just make the coffee and deal with goons drooling on my shitty carpet,” Darcy muttered, hugging herself as Cap and Barton talked quietly.

“Hey Lewis, where did you put the guns?”

“Oh um, I put them in the oven,” Darcy waved towards the little kitchen alcove, at Captain Rogers’ and Barton’s matching arched brows, she added “The oven doesn’t work. That’s part of why my rent is so cheap. Well that and Mr. Henderson killed Mrs. Henderson in the apartment next door and Jake downstairs got busted for selling drugs and threatening to bomb the Denny’s in Santa Rosa because they refused to give him a second jug of syrup. Oh and they took away his little dog Rufus. There is the rumour of the building being haunted, one night a book did jump off the shelf, but that could have been anything. Stop looking at me like that,” Darcy threw her hands up in the air huffing, “Don’t you have a job to do? Getting that ugly dude out of my apartment?”  


Captain Rogers opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, lips twitching as his gaze narrowed to the shelf beside Darcy. Darcy turned her head slowly, to see what Rogers was looking at. Sitting on the shelf with a pile of books, crystals, a half burnt vanilla candle, sat the Captain America doll she had waffled at Rogers about when they first met. Steve raised eyebrows, high enough that Darcy wondered if they would disappear into his perfect hair. 

“Oh fuck me sideways," She muttered, and covered her face with her hands, to hide her blush. Peeking through the lace of her fingers she watched Rogers’ expression shift into what she could only think of as Captain America’s Face of Disproval (tm), Agent Barton started snickering, and all Darcy wanted to do was crawl under her quilt and hide. No such luck there. She is never ever going to speak in Captain Rogers' presence ever again.

.........  
to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action, adventure, mortification, building fires and antagonising super soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to post the second half. Thank you all for commenting and I really hope you like the rest of the story.

Darcy managed to keep her mouth shut and followed Barton and Rogers’s instructions as they boarded the little aircraft. Barton started flicking switches and talking into the com and Captain Rogers strapped the goon into a seat. Darcy choose a seat as far away from the ‘Hydra’ (whatever that meant) goon as she could, and kept glancing up at Rogers with his clenched jaw. He practically vibrated with pent up energy and ill concealed rage as he stripped off his navy blazer and hung it up on a small concealed hook.

She huffed to herself, watching as Cap paced back and forth before he settled himself standing opposite her, his hands curling around the metal handhold. Darcy frowned down at her scuffed boots, pulling the sleeves of her forest green sweater dress down over her hands. She scratched a nail over a small hole in the knee of her legging and muttered “Awkward” under her breath. She felt eyes on her and darted her gaze up just as Captain Rogers turned his head away from her.

Darcy cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. No. No way had Captain Truth, Justice and the American Way just checked out her rack. She glanced down at her cleavage in the v-neck of her dress. The cut wasn’t particularly daring, but it was low enough to help her get tips at the coffee house. She is not above using the girls to get her rent paid on time. She opened her mouth because really, she couldn’t just not say anything to Captain Upstanding Citizen, about him ogling her rack. Before she could get the words out the Quinjet shuddered, alarms blaring, and a panel near Barton burst into a shower of sparks.

Barton and Rogers talked rapidly about what was happening when there was a sudden drop in altitude and an explosion ahead of them. Oh shit is that outside the jet? Darcy scrambled to get the complicated tangle of seatbelt on, but it was too late; the Quinjet shuddered again and fell more rapidly toward the earth. Barton remained in the pilot seat, guiding the jet between the tops of green trees. The jet was too low and a wing smacked into a tree. The bounce of the impact sent Darcy flying off her seat and into Steve. He wrapped an arm around her, bracing himself as the Quinjet hit the ground. One wing ripped off and the whole ship listed to the side and slipped down into a gully. Darcy couldn’t find the voice to scream as the sound of metal scraped and popped when the jet rolled over.

When the world stopped spinning, Darcy found herself in a tangle with Captain Rogers. She is sprawled out on top of him, her breasts shoved in his face. She put her hands down and levered herself up slowly, half wondering if she managed to suffocate a super soldier. “Barton? You okay?” Steve called out, voice slightly strained, his arm still tightly wound around her body as she shook her head to clear it.

“Yeah, m’okay Cap,” Barton muttered back.

Her right elbow gave out and sent her crashing back down onto Steve. He grunted and dropped his arm from her waist. As she shifted backwards slightly, Darcy felt something against her backside and froze, her eyes growing wide. She glanced up at Steve’s face and she could feel her cheeks burning red with embarrassment. His eyes were shut and his jaw so tightly clenched she wondered if his teeth were creaking. There is no way Captain America has a hard on, she thought. Darcy watched in fascination as colour crept into Rogers’ face. She couldn’t help herself she shifted her hips, rocking ever so slightly against him, and oh wow, did that get a reaction. Steve groans eyes popping open as his hands grip her by the waist picking her up and dropping her to the side as he scrambled back to his feet and wrenches the door of the quinjet open with brute strength and stalks off muttering something about scouting the area. _Oh..._

..............................................................

“Okay Daria...”

“Darcy.”

“Okay Darcy. Uh, did something happen aside from the crash?”

“You mean what’s got Captain America’s panties in a bunch? What did I say to him this time to make an idiot of myself?” She smirked but just shook her head. She liked Clint; he helped get her iPod back, but there was no way she was telling him what happened. “Nothing Barton. I’ll talk to him when we stop for the night, wherever the hell we are. Where are we? And where exactly is our fearless leader taking us?”

“We’re getting to higher ground, somewhere safer than the wreckage in case Hydra finds out before S.H.I.E.L.D. comes to collect its broken toys. We’re in the Sierra Nevada Mountains and we’re still in California...I think.”

“You think?”

“We got a little off course when they hit us and all the instruments went haywire. I was a little busy trying to keep us all alive.”

Darcy grumbled and let her eyes fall on Steve walking ahead of them, back ramrod straight as he set a gruelling pace that had Darcy huffing as she scrambled to keep up. Where they were going she had no idea, but she was pretty sure when she eventually talked to Captain Rogers, it was not going to go well at all.  
.....

Later that evening Darcy followed Steve as he went to collect firewood for their makeshift camp. “Go back to camp Miss Lewis.”

“Uh, no. We need to talk and Barton is wigging out that you are on the warpath. Not that that is anything new from what I hear. Besides, Clint has gone frolicking off into the woods to kill us some dinner and we left the goon back in the wreckage. So you wanna talk about it?”

“Look Miss Lewis, I’m sorry,” Steve grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re sorry? I’m pretty sure there is nothing to be sorry about. Unless you want there to be?”

“Miss Lewis I...”

“God, Captain, just don’t worry about it. Adrenaline runs high in a very um...suggestive situation. You’re male, you got...excited.”

“Miss Lewis! This is not an appropriate conversation.”

“Oh, please! I’m nearly twenty two I went to high school with boys and college with the same boys. I’m not some prissy princess who gets upset easily—just forget about it. I’m not offended; your body just had a man reaction. Basic biological function and um, I, uh, probably didn’t help,” Darcy ranted, arms flailing and cheeks pink. She watched Steve’s face grow increasingly red though from anger or embarrassment she couldn’t decide. His blue eyes flashed and his fists clenched and unclenched. Who would have thought she would ever be talking to Captain Fucking America about sex? She knew she was babbling but couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. Though part of it was flavoured with lies because there was no way she was forgetting what happened no matter what. She was so headed for a special place in hell. “I’m sorry, Cap. Please let’s pretend it never happened if that makes you happy. I want you to be happy. I need you to be happy to get us out of here and home again. I mean obviously you were very happy.”

“Miss Lewis...Darcy...stop! Please just stop talking.”

“So let’s pretend you never had an erection and I never rocked...”

Steve made a strangled sound and dropped the wood in his arms. “Goddamn it, Darcy!”

“Do you need some help with your wood there?” Darcy asked, eyes sparking with mischief, gaze dropping down suggestively. 

“You did not say that, Miss Lewis.”

“Come again?” Darcy grinned wickedly and Steve glared, raising a finger and pointing back to camp.

”Alright, sorry, I’m going.” Darcy held her hands up in surrender. “But it was funny and you totally walked into that. No more fun for Darcy. So friends? Or not. Just no more awkwardness, okay?” Darcy helped gather up the fallen wood and they walked back to the small clearing.

“Yeah, fine just no more talking,” Steve practically growled out, jaw thrust out and eyes actively avoiding her gaze.

............  
Darcy held her tongue. She really tried, but sitting in the damp mountain air watching Captain America fail at making fire by rubbing two sticks together was absurdly funny. Darcy rummaged around in the bottom of her bag for her granddad’s engraved metal lighter that she always kept with her. "Um, I have a..."

"It’s fine, Miss Lewis," Rogers snapped gripping the branches so tightly in his hands they creaked. "We are not talking about it anymore!"

"Jesus I wasn’t going to say anything! What the hell is wrong with you? I thought Captain America had a great ass; I didn’t realise he was an ass! It’s not like it was on tape! Stark made gifs. Gifs, Steve! Of my epic mortification when I met you." Darcy had been so ready to drop the whole thing, but the jut of Roger’s jaw and the disapproving glance he gave her just raised her up twelve notches on her rage meter, and she could never hold her tongue when angry.

"I..."

"Gifs he put on Tumblr. Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You aren’t an idiot and Tony attached the gifs to his personal email. Really Rogers, you got a fucking hard on from friction and some tits in your face. Nobody knows be me and you. I’m not going to put it all over the Internet so all your co-workers and dad see you fangirl and humiliate yourself at meeting your fucking asshole hero. "

"Miss Lewis, please."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I said no. You can say jump, Captain America, but I’m not gonna ask how high. I don’t even care anymore that all I do is swear and say the wrong thing in front of you. More like Captain Fucking Prude. "

"Miss Lewis please, just stop talking."

 

"Bit late for the formalities isn’t it, Steven," Darcy sneered and rolled her eyes. "No, you know what? I’m done. Fuck you very much, Captain," Darcy glared defiantly up at Steve, not caring that her glasses were slipping down her nose or that the edges of the lighter were cutting into her hand as she balled her fists up. She tilted her head back, jutting her chin defiantly, blue eyes flashing fire, red painted lips in a grim line, as she started to turn away. 

"No, we are not done here. You don’t get to insult me and then walk away making me the fucking asshole for having the manners my mother gave me."

"Yeah ‘cause I have none right? Same as I have no brain-to-mouth filter and was just a stupid kid in the wrong place and I got to tase a fucking Demi-god. ‘Hey there’s Foster’s assistant, I heard she tased Thor—let’s introduce her to Captain America and we’ll all have a good laugh when she makes an ass of herself.’"

"Christ. Do you ever fucking shut up?" Steve spat, face flushed, breath heaving as he had bent down over her. 

"Fuck you, Captain Asshole!" Darcy hissed and swung her balled fist, punching Steve in the mouth. Granddad Lewis had been a boxer in his younger years and he taught Darcy how to throw a mean right hook, a good uppercut, and a killer straight punch.

It hurt like a mother; she was pretty sure her knuckle was bleeding, but the startled look on Steve’s face made it worth it, and that tiny spot of blood on his mouth where his lip caught against his perfect white teeth…that was fucking priceless. Darcy smirked; she knew he wasn’t going to hit her, the whole Big Damn Hero thing, what she didn’t expect however was his mouth to crash down on hers as he kissed her hard, mouth slanting wetly against hers, tongue teasing at the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth.

There was nothing tentative about Steve’s kiss as he explored her mouth and she felt his hands slide against her back and down to cup her ass and hitch her up against him. Darcy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back just as fiercely, nipping at his bottom lip and tangling her hand in his perfect hair. He trailed kisses along her jaw, careful of the bruised skin and started nibbling and licking her neck. Darcy squirmed in his arms and wrapped her legs around his slim hips as he pressed her back against the rough bark of a pine tree.

Darcy tried to think but really, Captain America had her pinned against a tree kissing the daylights out of her. She was sure her panties would be on fire if they weren’t so wet. She moaned and he brought his mouth back up to capture hers. She rocked her hips against his, and could feel the hard press of his erection through his jeans. He held her effortless against the tree, one hand warm on her ass and the other snaking up to tease her nipple through the lace of her bra making her whimper and rock against him. Steve pulled his mouth away and whispered, “Um.”

“Um?” Darcy replied blinking slowly. “So, not so much the Boy Scout Virgin, huh?”

“No, I was never a Boy Scout,”

“Well I am so...”

“A Boy Scout?

“No,”

“Oh...” he replied after a moment as her confession worked its way through his brain. He groaned a little bit, fingers flexing on her ass, eyes dark and slightly unfocused.

“Yeah awkward. So, hot as this is, I really don’t want to have my v-card punched against a tree, ending up with splinters, and giving Hawkeye a show,” Darcy grimaced, ducking her head down into Steve’s shoulder. She wasn’t exactly embarrassed by the fact, just…well this—this was never a scenario she ran in her head. She tilted her head slightly and pressed her mouth against Steve’s neck. She hesitated a moment, brushing her lips against his skin, then bit him. Steve’s hips rocked into her and she gasped his name.

“Darcy, we need to stop; Clint’ll be back any minute. Later we’ll talk about this. Okay?” Steve asked and at Darcy’s nod he kissed her one last time before slowly disentangling himself from her. Darcy held into the tree trunk behind her, as she wasn’t sure her knees would support her anymore. She bit her lip as Captain Rogers grimaced down at himself and adjusted himself in his jeans.

Darcy looked down at her hands, and started laughing as she held the lighter out to Steve. “Um, this might help with the fire.”

"Um, Darcy?" Steve said after a few moments of fiddling with the silver lighter.

"Hmm? Oh, here,” Darcy grinned as she held out a tissue, “you have a bit of lipstick on your mouth."

Steve dropped the lighter in his pocket and scrubbed at his mouth with the tissue. He bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck, "Darcy...uh, you have a little, um..." he waved his hand at his own neck.

"What?" Darcy grumbled as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to loosen a stubborn tangle.

"Your neck," he muttered, ducking his head away.

“What about my neck?” Darcy narrowed her eyes and dug into her bag, fishing out a cracked compact mirror and checking her make-up. Her Hot Rod Red lipstick was smeared against her mouth, the bruise on her jaw had darkened considerably from a few hours ago. She angled the mirror down to see her neck, "Holy shit, Cap, I look like a vampire's been at me," she exclaimed running her fingers against the reddened marks on her neck.

"Um, I'm sorry?"

"Really? Are you really sorry, Captain?"

"No, not even a little bit," Steve grinned down at her.

........

 

Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling. -JD (Heathers 1988)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading, commenting and giving me all the kudos. It means the world to me. I have two more stories with my beta now, one a Steve/Darcy fluffy oneshot...that may be a bit on the smutty side... and a Darcy/Bucky angst-fest. I will also be working on Pie-Crust and Lavender very soon. Have a lovely Day/Night/Afternoon!

**Author's Note:**

> The second part of this fic is written and being looked over by my beta as I write this, so hopefully it should be posted tomorrow. 
> 
> disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, and I own nothing but a crappy laptop and some rabid plot bunnies.
> 
> p.s. name check for Santa Rosa, Ca because I lived there once upon a time.


End file.
